A Perfect Fix
by fbeauchamphartz
Summary: Kurt is just trying to get his Navigator and get on with his life, but the mechanic fixing his car has other things on his mind he feels like fixing first. Kurt H. Sebastian S.


**A/N:** _Warning for angry sex/rough sex, butt plugs, biting, and what might seem like minor sexual assault…but please remember that not everything I write is what it seems. Minor mention of Blaine (not Klaine)/Blaine friendly._

"A-ha…a-ha…yeah…a-ha…" Kurt mutters into his cell phone, only half listening to the man yammering on the other end of the line while he searches through his messenger bag for his spare Navigator keys. "I know…yeah, well…what are you going to do?" He expertly steps off the curb and crosses the drive, heading for the garage and his car. "I know, Blaine. I know, but…" Kurt steps into his garage and gasps, horrified at what he sees. "Blaine? I'm going to have to call you back…Yes, I'll be there for lunch, just…just give me an hour." Kurt hangs up his call and roars in disgust, "Jesus fucking Christ! Are you telling me it's not done yet? You've been working on it for over two hours!"

"Well, _excuse_ me, princess…" The mechanic working on Kurt's Navigator stands up straight and runs greasy hands down the legs of his overalls. "But this isn't the kind of thing you want to rush. Do you want it fixed quick or do you want it fixed right?"

"You know…" Kurt stalks up to the man, glaring daggers at his smug face, "when I hired you, it wasn't because you had an exemplary work history or the best references. In fact, you didn't have any references at all. I gave you a chance, and now, I have to say, I'm starting to regret it."

"No more than I am, believe me," the mechanic mumbles, returning back to the SUV and its open hood.

"Excuse me?" Kurt barks to the man's back.

"I had to order a part," the man covers, "and it won't be here for another hour."

Kurt shoves his phone angrily into his bag, stomping his foot in frustration. "I don't _have_ another hour!" he argues. "I need to be somewhere. I have work I have to do!"

The mechanic shrugs. "Really not my problem."

"Actually, it _is_ your problem, because if I don't work, you don't get paid, smart ass!"

"It's Sebastian."

"I don't see how it makes any difference," Kurt spits back. "Look, I have lunch with a client in…" Kurt looks at his watch, "43 minutes at a restaurant that's 42 minutes away. I _need_ to get there. What do you expect me to do, ride the bus?"

Sebastian wipes his hands on a rag, smiling as he works at the dirt beneath his fingernails, fiddling to get them clean. "I can give you something you can ride," he remarks, looking down Kurt's body, his meaning unmistakably sexual.

It doesn't take longer than a second for Kurt to get the hint. He throws down his bag.

"Why, you dirty, disgusting, son of a…"

Kurt storms up to him, hand raised to slap him across the cheek, but Sebastian grabs him by the wrist, putting a hand to his shoulder and shoving him up against the vehicle. Kurt struggles, but Sebastian's hands on his body hold him vice-like, and Kurt can't move.

"Get off of me," Kurt demands, low and dangerous, looking in Sebastian's eyes with a fire that's supposed to be fueled by pure loathing, but actually burns with something more. "You're going to get me filthy, and this outfit costs more than every fucking thing you own put together."

"You know, princess," Sebastian says, moving in till he's pinning Kurt to the car with his whole body, talking with his lips against Kurt's cheek, "you're probably right. But I don't think you want me to let go at all."

"Really?" Kurt laughs, dripping with condescension. "And why not?"

"Because I think you _want_ me to get you filthy," Sebastian whispers, rubbing his grease stained cheek against Kurt's clean shaven skin. "I think that's why you're always bringing your SUV in for every Goddamned fucking little thing. That's why you take the long way around, just so you can look in here and see me working."

"You're delusional," Kurt says, pushing at Sebastian with his body. But Sebastian weighs a bit more than Kurt expects. He doesn't budge him.

"Yeah?" Sebastian says, enjoying having Kurt at his mercy, having him strung up and helpless. "Even if I am, I know you. I know how you operate."

"You know nothing about me," Kurt growls, trying one more futile shove. Sebastian leans into him harder.

"I know you're sick and tired of those stuck up rich guys you hang out with," Sebastian says, running his nose up the column of Kurt's throat and breathing in. "Those country club trust fund babies pawing at you and coming on to you all the time, treating you like you're already theirs, whether you want to be or not."

"You don't…you don't know what you're talking about," Kurt says, suddenly uncomfortable. But not because of anything Sebastian is doing, even as he slowly ruts against Kurt's leg. Kurt shifts his gaze away, but when he feels it, feels Sebastian hard against his thigh, Kurt can't help himself.

A moan slips past his lips in the form of a small gasp.

"I've seen it," Sebastian says with a triumphant smirk. "Oh, you string them along with those gorgeous ocean blues and that pretty little tight ass of yours, but you know what you really want, don't you?"

"Yeah," Kurt says, nodding, sliding his body away, "I want you to fix my Navigator so I can get on with my life. And if you do a good job, I won't call the cops and have you charged with sexual harassment."

Kurt yanks his wrist out of Sebastian's grip, puts his hand flat on Sebastian's chest, and pushes him hard. This time, Sebastian stumbles back, but with a shit-eating grin, he spins Kurt around and presses him up against the Navigator, chest to the passenger side window.

"I'll fix something better," Sebastian growls, working blindly at the buttons on Kurt's shirt, almost tearing a few off as he goes along.

"What the fu— get off of me!" Kurt says, but it's more of a shudder as Sebastian reaches the button of his slacks.

"Go ahead – scream," Sebastian says in his ear. "There's plenty of people around. Someone will come running. Shit – security's right on the other side of that wall. You yell help and they'll be here in seconds. They'll drag my ass away and you'll never have to see my face again. Is that what you want?" He asks it with his hand stopped at the zipper, ready to drag it down. "Is that what you really want?"

Kurt's breath comes hard, puffs of condensation forming on the slick paint beneath his parted lips.

"N…no," Kurt admits.

"You're going to have to say that louder, darling," Sebastian teases. "Years of working with hydraulics, it's kind of hard for me to hear. What did you say?"

Kurt takes a deep breath, but nothing he does slows the racing of his heart, beating in his throat, making getting air to his lungs difficult with Sebastian's hard chest pushing against his back, his erection pressing into the seam of his jeans.

"I said…" Kurt raises his voice but it echoes in the garage, so he drops it a click or two, "I said no. No, I don't want that. I don't want you to go."

Sebastian tears into Kurt's slacks, shoving them down below his ass along with his briefs. With rough, calloused fingers, he explores Kurt's silky skin, eager to finger him, to have Kurt writhe and beg, but his fingertips are met by something unexpected – something smooth and hard.

"A plug?" Sebastian asks with surprise, tapping on the metal object. He takes a step back to get a look. "Oh-ho, and by the looks of it, it's a big one! Who are you getting yourself ready for, baby?"

"None of your business," Kurt groans, not struggling when Sebastian moves the plug slowly in and out, twisting then pushing in.

"None of my business, huh? Well, maybe I should stop…"

"No!" Kurt snaps. "Don't stop."

Sebastian puts his unoccupied hand in Kurt's hair, grabs a handful, and pulls. "You don't get to order me around, princess. Not here. Not doing this. You want me to keep going, you have to say _please_."

Kurt's mouth hangs open, his eyes wide and conflicted as Sebastian continues to twist, to push, to pull.

"Say… _please_ …" he commands, and the pushing and pulling comes to a stop.

"P-please," Kurt whimpers, looking disgusted with himself as he does. "Don't stop. Please…"

Sebastian wraps his fingertips back around the base of the plug and starts twisting again.

"Now see?" Sebastian says. "Does it take a lot of effort? To be nice?"

"More than you think," Kurt murmurs with a heavy swallow.

"Well, maybe you need some lessons," Sebastian says, taking Kurt's hand and leading it back to the plug. "You keep going while I get ready to teach you how to be nice."

Kurt is reluctant to do anything this cretin says, but he doesn't want to stop. Sebastian's not wrong. Everything he said was right on the money. Kurt wants him. That's why he hired him. He figured it would give him time to figure out just how to get to him. He never thought Sebastian would figure him out, would ever see him as anything other than a paycheck. His hand toying with the plug starts to shake when he hears a condom wrapper rip, and the sound of latex being unrolled.

"I…I h-hope you washed your hands first," Kurt moans, resting his cheek against the cool surface of the SUV.

"Don't worry," Sebastian says, "I've got you covered." He swats Kurt's hand away, then pulls out the plug. He puts it on the roof of the Navigator in Kurt's view. Kurt sees Sebastian's hand covered in leather gloves. Kurt shivers, inhaling quickly. He's always loved the smell of leather, and driving gloves have a particular rich, savory, masculine odor that never fails to turn him on.

"Oh God." He moans from that heavenly smell, and from feeling the tip of Sebastian's cock tease his hole open.

"Do you want to know what I think?" Sebastian asks.

"Not particularly, no," Kurt grumbles, squeezing his eyes shut as Sebastian enters him slowly, slowly.

"I think you wore that plug for me. I think you were getting ready for me because you knew that if you came in here with your tight pants and your bitchy attitude, you were going to get fucked."

"I think… _aaah_!" The sentence dies, reborn a scream as Sebastian claims Kurt's body fast and ruthless.

Sebastian grabs Kurt's hair and pulls his mouth toward him.

"Like you said, sweetheart, I don't care what you think."

Sebastian kisses him while he fucks him, bites him, using more teeth on Kurt's skin than anything, purposefully bruising him, turning his pale skin a dark, angry red. Sebastian reaches around to wrap a gloved hand around Kurt's cock, and Kurt cries out.

"God!" he yells. "Harder!"

"Oh, you want harder?" Sebastian says, pulling aside the collar of Kurt's shirt with his teeth and starting marks on his shoulder – deep, possessive marks he'll feel for days. "I can do harder." Sebastian bites down, his teeth sinking into Kurt's skin as he thrusts up, over and over until Kurt starts to squirm, whining, bucking as if he's trying to get away, but Sebastian knows he's not. He knows he's begging for more. "Is that what you wanted? Is that the way you want it?"

"Yes," Kurt moans. "Yes, yes…"

"You're going to have be a little louder than that," Sebastian grunts, biting again, pounding again, nearly lifting Kurt off the floor. If he took Kurt face to face, he'd be able to hold him against the Navigator and wrap his legs around his waist. The thought makes him salivate with the taste of Kurt's skin under his tongue.

He files the image away. A plan for another time.

"Jesus Christ, Kurt. You're so fucking tight…so fucking tight. I…I'm going to cum."

"Fu-fucking lightweight," Kurt stammers, forcing himself back and down until Sebastian's drilling into his body is almost too painful to take. "I could… _God_ …I could do this all afternoon."

"Yeah, but you've got the easy job," Sebastian says. "All you have to do is take it. I've got to dish it out."

"Alright," Kurt says, grabbing Sebastian's coveralls and pushing him back a few steps, "try this one on for size." Kurt bends over, folding himself in half, grabbing Sebastian's ankles behind him.

"Oh, Christ, Kurt," Sebastian groans, hitting him again, as fast and hard as he can, holding Kurt's pants for leverage. "God, I…I can't last with you like that."

"Well…" Kurt says, his voice strained with his body in this position, "that makes…both of us."

"Just don't pass out," Sebastian says through clenched teeth. "I don't know…how I'd explain that…to the paramedics…"

Kurt laughs. He unfolds, straightening back up.

"Awww," Sebastian whines, "I was having fun."

"I wanted…to kiss you," Kurt says, flush-faced and breathless.

"Okay. I can deal with that." But this time, when Sebastian kisses him, he's gentler, taking Kurt's cock in his gloved hand again, stroking him slowly, touching him completely from root to tip with the slightly textured palm of the glove.

"Oh, God," Kurt mumbles against Sebastian's lips. "Yes…I…I'm…"

"I accept your apology," Sebastian says obnoxiously right before he cums, leaving Kurt with that one last dig before he truly gets the chance to own him, to watch Kurt spill hot over his skin, staining his coveralls, the floor, his shoes, pretty much anything and everything in the few feet in front of them.

"Je-jesus Christ, Sebastian," Kurt says, reaching out for the side of his SUV to lean up against, his legs shaking beneath him. "You're…you're…you're such an ass!"

Sebastian laughs, moving for a few more strokes, completely spent but not at all thrilled with the idea of leaving Kurt's tight body.

"So, how was that, princess?"

"That depends…" Kurt says, panting against the passenger window, his breath fogging the glass, "is the scene over?"

"Yeah," Sebastian says, pulling out when he goes soft and swatting Kurt's behind.

"Then I have to say, it's a little disturbing having sex against my SUV," Kurt admits, letting Sebastian help him upright so that his weak knees don't fail on him. "I mean, my dad bought it for me."

"Oh, Jesus! If you're thinking about your dad with my dick up your ass, I'm definitely doing something wrong."

"No, you were perfect," Kurt purrs, shimmying his pants up and doing the zipper. He grabs the plug rolling on the roof of the SUV and puts it in his pocket. "Except…"

"Except what?" Sebastian asks.

"Did you really have to pull _all_ my fuses?" Kurt groans, peering into the engine well.

"Hey, I aim for realism, babe."

"Since when? Weren't you the one who wanted to role-play 'alien invasion' last night?"

"You went along with it, so you can't hate."

"Do you even know what these fuses are for?" Kurt asks, exasperated by the amount of damage Sebastian managed to deal to a $60,000 vehicle in the space of ten minutes.

"Nope. Nope, I don't," Sebastian admits with a cocky grin.

"Nope is right," Kurt grumbles. "You obviously don't know where my dipstick goes, either."

"Hey! I think I manage your dipstick just fine," Sebastian says, pulling up a folding chair and spinning it around so he can straddle it. "Are we _really_ going to lunch with Blaine?"

"Yup," Kurt says, picking through the fuses, trying to put them back in order. "He's dropping that new album Friday. You know how nervous he gets. He needs some friendly faces to complain to."

"Wouldn't you rather continue this upstairs?" Sebastian asks, resting his cheek on his arm as he openly ogles his husband's ass. "I can pretend you're the maid. We've got the outfit."

"Maybe when we get back," Kurt says offhandedly. "Crap. I won't be able to fix the mess you made until after lunch." He sighs. "Go get dressed and bring down the keys to your car."

"Yes, sir, Kurt Hummel, sir," Sebastian says with a mock salute.

"And by the way…"

Sebastian, standing from the chair, stops midway. "What?"

Kurt grins, pointing a grease-stained finger his way. "If I remember correctly, it's _your_ turn to wear the maid outfit."


End file.
